Peachy Keen
by PotatosGonnaPotate
Summary: Clary Fray hated Jace Herondale. She was one hundred percent sure of it. Or at least eighty percent sure. She hated his perfect hair, his perfect, arrogant smirk, his perfect, stupid body... But the one thing she hated the most was how she didn't actually hate him at all. Not even a little. Enemies to lovers. HS AU. Clace, Malec.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys its Jen! Welcome to my new fic! This story follows Clary and Jace (alongside their friends) through high school – though you probably got that from the summary. I haven't been active on this site in pretty much two years, I've had a lot going on! I've only recently started university, which has been absolutely crazy, given I joined this site when I was 13! A lot has changed…**

**A quick notes on updates – somehow, I managed to get into the most competitive university in my country and they lay a _lot_ of work on us. I can't guarantee when updates come out. I hope they'll be regular, but only time will tell. Also, this is my first time writing for TMI fandom so I really hope you guys like it…please let me know how I'm doing! I haven't written in two years, so I'm very rusty… please be forgiving! But that's enough on that… enjoy!**

CLARY

"Okay, okay… Magnus, would you rather bone Chris Hemsworth or Liam Hemsworth?"

The party was in full swing. I wasn't even sure whose party it was – and I'm not certain Magnus did either. All I got from him as he dragged me out of the apartment was some mumbled words about 'attractive' and 'football team'. I didn't really want to ask much more.

"Are you kidding?" Magnus laughed. "Obviously Thor." Izzy nodded appreciatively.

"You're choosing Thor over Gale?" I accused. "So not cool, Mag. Come on Simon, back me up!"

Simon just laughed.

"Sorry, Clare. I'm with Magnus on this one."

We were sat in a circle in what I assumed was the living room of whoever's house this was. I was working on my apple juice – that's my party trick, it looks like beer, so people don't tease you for not drinking alcohol – and Izzy was working on slowly sidling up to Simon. Not very slyly, might I add. She was completely in love with him. She had been for years. And as always, he was completely clueless.

"That's bullshit, Simon! I thought we were friends…" I pouted. Simon's cheeks went pink. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah… best friends."

I punched his arm lightly.

"I'm not actually mad at you, silly. Your opinion is just wrong!" I smiled at him. He smiled back.

I'd been noticing Simon acting strangely a lot recently. I could never figure out why until I realised that every time I noticed him acting strange we were with Izzy! I was almost certain he had a crush on her. I just needed to give him a little push. Simon wasn't the most outgoing of people… not that I minded. It was perfect in fact, our little quartet. Simon and I liked to keep to ourselves, Izzy liked to party and flirt – a _lot_ – and Magnus was the craziest of all of us. It just made me love him even more.

"Alright Clary, your turn!" Izzy beamed. I groaned slightly. "Would you rather… kiss Raphael or kiss Mr Starkweather?"

"Ew, Izzy that's gross!" Simon's face was bright red now. Probably all this talk of kissing…

But I never got the chance to answer. Just as I was about to speak up, someone cleared their throat.

"Sorry, Peaches, as much as I am _dying_ to hear the answer to that question, you're blocking the way to the bathroom."

I recognised that drawl. Jace Fucking Herondale.

I glared.

"Don't call me Peaches," I huffed, shuffling slightly so he could get past.

He was so annoying. That stupid leather jacket and that stupid motorbike and those stupid curls and those stupid eyes… It was no secret Jace Herondale and I didn't get along. Hating him was as easy as breathing. He was just so cocky, so arrogant. He was practically _begging _for me to call him an ass.

"Watcha gonna do about it, huh Peaches?" He smiled. As he stepped by where I was sat, his leg brushed against my back. I tensed.

"Leave her alone, Jace," Izzy turned to me and smiled. "Sorry for my brother. As you know, he can be a bit of an…"

"Ass," We finished together. I giggled. Relaxing once more, I focussed on my friends. Forget Jace – I was having a good night with my friends. Stretching my legs, I stood up.

"I'm gonna get some more juice, anyone want anything?"

"I'll come." Izzy stood up and joined me. We walked through to the modest kitchen. I'm sure that normally the kitchen would have been clean and lovely, but for now it was covered in beer cans and red cups. Two people I didn't know where making out against the sink. I grimaced.

Izzy turned to me as soon as we were out of earshot from Simon and Magnus.

"You've got to talk to Simon for me," She begged. "You're his best friend! He'll listen to you!"

I groaned. Izzy had been pestering me to talk to Simon for the past while. I never gave in – I was adamant that I wasn't going to meddle in my friends' lives. Especially Simon.

Izzy was perfect. There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't envy her gorgeous looks, her curves, and her sharp intelligence. I don't think there was anyone in our school – boy or girl – who hadn't noticed. Apart from Simon, apparently.

"Izzy… you know I don't –" She cut me off, sticking her hands on her hips.

"You owe me. I got my brother off your back just there."

Another groan.

"Really, Iz?" I poured myself some more juice and looked up at her. Her shining black hair had been gathered into a sleek ponytail and her love heart lips were painted blood red. She could get any boy she wanted. I sighed. "Fine."

"You're the best, Clary!" She squealed, hugging me. Some of my juice spilled out my cup and onto my top. Of course the one time I actually make an effort to look nice for a party I spill something on myself! Thankfully, the pretty black top showed no stains – though I could certainly feel it getting sticky.

"I'll talk to him," I said, praying she would back off. Of course I wanted Simon and Izzy to get together – they'd make the cutest couple. I just wanted it to happen on their own terms.

_Guess it's now or never, Clary._

I walked back to where Simon and Magnus were chatting, and tapped Simon on his shoulder. I tiled my head towards what I assumed was a bedroom. _Come with me. _

Simon and I always knew what the other was thinking. It was like we were joined mentally – he could always tell when I was hurting. He snapped me out of thinking about Valentine whenever I went too deep into my thoughts about him. Or Jon. Or Mom. He always had the best remedy to sadness too – a couple of really bad romance movies and some Reece's Pieces. He knew me perfectly. I was so lucky to have him as my best friend.

Simon caught on, and stood up and followed me. I linked my arm around his like I always did. Simon, Magnus and Izzy were the closest thing I had to family.

We got into the bedroom and I sat on the bed, beckoning for him to join me. I could tell by the expression on his face that he had guesses about what was about to happen. Maybe he knew what I was going to talk to him about. Maybe he knew I knew he had a crush on Izzy. He was so cute.

It was a spacious room. A double bed with pretty pink sheets stood against the wall in the middle of the room, a vanity covered in all sorts of beauty products directly opposite it. The walls were plastered with posters of different bands and celebrities. It reminded me a little of Izzy's room. I smiled. So many good memories had been made in a room just like this one.

I grabbed his hands, ignoring the way his cheeks coloured.

"Simon," I began, already feeling incredibly awkward. "I don't know if you're thinking about… dating." I felt like a parent about to give their child 'The Talk'. I really didn't want to mess this up for Izzy and Simon. I knew they'd be so happy together if they were given the chance.

"Uh…" Simon started, but I cut him off.

"Look, Si, there's a certain girl at this party who I know likes you… a lot." I bit my lip. My face was getting redder and redder. Simon's face was completely flushed – but he no longer looked confused. Instead he looked weirdly determined. It wasn't an expression I saw a lot on Simon's face.

"I know." He said. His voice wavered slightly. "And… and I want her to know I feel the same way."

Success!

I grinned widely, knowing I'd have to tell Izzy as soon as I could. Or maybe Simon could tell Izzy? That would be something.

"That's great! She'll be so happy to –"

I was cut off by his very eager lips on mine.

_What the hell._

His lips were warm, soft. It could have been a nice kiss, a very nice kiss, if it weren't for the fact that this was Simon. My best friend.

I jumped back. Simon looked ecstatic.

"Clary, I'm so happy! I never knew how to tell you - "

"Simon…" I gaped at him. This was the worst possible way this could have gone. My head swam. What just happened? Did Simon really just kiss me?

I couldn't think straight. I thought he liked Izzy? Had I been leading him on all this time?

"Simon…" I started, almost whispering. "I wasn't talking about me, Simon."

For a moment, he didn't understand. I saw the confusion in his eyes, searching for the truth in mine. Then his face fell. I watched his heart break and _god_ did it make mine break too. He had been so delighted – and I crushed him. What had I done? He was going to be so upset with me, so would Izzy when she learned we had kissed.

His face turned cold.

"Oh." He said quietly. "I see."

My Simon, my best friend who was always laughing with me, who always knew how to make the darkest day brighter. Horror was slowly dawning on me. I had hurt him – my Simon – my best friend.

I didn't want this to happen. I never intended for this to happen! I didn't know that Simon wanted me and not Izzy. I couldn't think straight – I needed to explain to him what was going on, I needed to tell him I still loved him, just not the way he wanted.

"You don't want me." Simon stared at the ground. Simon's face was still bright red – but I knew it meant something different this time. Simon's voice wasn't cutting as I expected it to be, it was quiet. Soft.

"No, Si, that's ridiculous! You know I love you!" I begged. I couldn't stand to make him upset. He was my family.

His eyes met mine and I could see the hurt there. It broke me.

"But not in the way that I want you to, right?"

I shook my head.

"Si, I'm so, so sorry." My lip was starting to bleed from where I was gnawing at it. He was still sitting next to me on the bed, but it didn't feel the same. It didn't feel like normal Clary and Simon – it felt different. He was pulling away from me.

"It's fine, Clary." Clary, not Clare. His voice wavered. His hands were in fists. I couldn't bring myself to look at his face. _No it's not fine, Simon. _"I'm just – I'm going to go."

I couldn't believe I had hurt Simon. Simon and I never fought – we were the perfect friends. Always exactly in tune. How could I have known? I was so stupid. I thought I always knew what Simon was thinking – but clearly I was wrong_._

It's not like there was any indication of liking me – he never said anything, he never - oh.

The romance movies and chocolate. The constant blushing. Oh. _Oh. _

He stood up. I could feel tears building up in my eyes. I looked down at the ground. I didn't want to let him see them fall.

But when I looked back up, he was gone.

Suddenly, I was filled with anger.

"Argh!" I shouted, tears in my eyes, stamping my foot onto the ground. How had I screwed this up so badly?

He was my best friend all my life. Had he been in love with me the entire time? Was our entire friendship a lie? Was he only my friend because he wanted to date me? I felt disgusting. Not only had I hurt my best friend, but I didn't actually know whether he had been my best friend at all. Sure, I may have been 'friend-zoning' Simon, but had he been 'girlfriend-zoning' me this whole time? Was he only interested in me romantically?

This was really fucked.

_I _was really fucked.

I kicked the bed frame. It creaked in annoyance.

Finally, the tears were too much to hold back and I fell to my knees in front of the bed, my face in my hands. Only minutes ago everything had still been perfect. Magnus, Izzy, Simon and I all laughing, playing 'Would You Rather'. This party was supposed to be fun. How had it all gone so wrong?

Izzy would be wondering by now what had happened. Had she seen Simon leave? Had he said something to her? The thought made everything so much worse. And then – the creak of the door.

"Biscuit? Everything alright?" Magnus' velvet voice did little to make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel worse. So much worse.

"Go away, Magnus!" I cried. I didn't want him to see me like this.

Magnus knew everything, just as much as Simon and Izzy did. Magnus knew all my deepest secrets, he knew all about my family. Hell, we lived together – he'd seen me at my best and at my worst. He'd seen me in my underwear. But somehow this, what had happened between Simon and me, was too personal. Too close to my heart to share.

I had ruined everything. Simon had ruined everything.

I didn't ask for this! All I wanted was an uncomplicated friendship. I thought that was what we had. Apparently I was wrong about that. What else was I wrong about?

"Cupcake, I don't want to leave you when you're like this…" Magnus whispered. He was still standing by the door. He knew well enough that sometimes I needed to be left alone.

I knew he was worried. I knew I shouldn't push him away – I'd only have one more friendship to worry about. He cared too much about me and Simon. I couldn't put this on him. I couldn't make him choose between us.

Was that what was going to happen? Would Simon and I stop being friends? The thought was unbearable.

The door creaked slightly and Magnus was gone.

I knew better than to assume he'd leave entirely. He would stay nearby for when I was able to talk. _If_ I was able to talk. I didn't know if I would ever feel like talking again.

I dragged myself off my knees and sad with my back against the bed, hugging my legs. Surely it would be okay. Simon and I had never fought – we could overcome this, right? A small part of me hoped. But the bigger part of me knew that wasn't going to happen. Simon had been too embarrassed by my rejection to just go back to regular old Simon and Clary.

I sniffed, rubbing my eyes slightly. My hand came away covered in mascara. I must look an absolute mess. The tears were slowing now though, being replaced by more sinister, cold, numbness. Of all the people to hurt, of all the people to hurt me, Simon shouldn't have been the one. Things had been going so well, I hadn't cried this much since…

I wasn't going there. Thinking about my old life would only make me start crying again, and I had been doing that less and less lately. Moving out of the old house and into Magnus' apartment was the best choice I had ever made. It allowed me to heal. I think maybe moving out of the toxic environment that I used to call home was the best decision I made for my mental health.

I leaned my head onto my knees, my red hair falling in a curtain around me. Could I fix this?

…

I stayed in that position for another hour. It was now past eleven, and normally at this point I would start yawning and Magnus or Simon would take me home. I knew for certain I wouldn't be getting a ride with Simon tonight. I was just starting to stretch my legs and start moving when the door flew open.

Two figures stumbled into the room, accompanied by an obscene amount of giggling. The two of them were entwined everywhere possible – they were joined at the mouth, her arms pulled tightly around his waist and I could see her leg moving to wrap around him too. _Oh god._ I had no idea who either of them were and wasn't planning on finding out. That being said, the leather jacket that the guy was wearing was starting to look familiar…

Then I saw the curls.

_Fuck. _

Jace Herondale had been planning on getting laid in this room and I was about to get in the way of that.

I stood up on shaky legs, hoping to make a quick escape before they noticed I was here. Given the direction they seemed to be going in, I didn't really think that they'd notice a bomb going off in the next room, they were so preoccupied with… _that_. My cheeks heated.

Jace turned his head. Our eyes met. _Fuck._

"I'm sorry, I was just-" _Shut up Clary. _"I'll go."

The girl turned to me and sneered. I knew exactly what I looked like. My red hair was matted, my eyes were puffy and my skin was blotchy. I had mascara and tear tracks all down my cheeks. I was hugging myself in an attempt to stop the shaking.

Jace hadn't stopped staring at me. I would have assumed by now that he would have made some snide comment, but he hadn't. He just kept starting.

I made to move, to run, to go anywhere but here. I really couldn't deal with Jace right now. There was no way I could muster up enough energy to get him to leave me alone. I knew that if anyone spoke to me right now, I would just break down again.

But just as I was starting to leave, Jace growled.

"Kaelie, leave."

Before she could even respond, he had shoved her back through the door and slammed it shut. He looked at me again. Really looked at me.

My lip wobbled.

_I'm not going to cry I'm not going to cry I'm not going to cry._

My eyes welled up with tears.

"Peaches…" He whispered. I couldn't discern his facial expression. I'd only ever seen arrogant, smirking Jace. How was I supposed to know that he actually had emotions under there? His forehead was wrinkled with…concern?

"Go away," I mumbled, sitting back down on the ground. I couldn't handle this. I was so tired.

I felt him sit down next to me. I couldn't bring myself to tell him to leave. I felt tiny sitting next to him.

Why wasn't he being mean to be? Of all the chances he had to pick on me, this was the best one. I was literally sitting on some random bedroom floor having just cried my eyes out – and now crying again – and he chooses now to be nice to me. If that's what he was being – I couldn't quite tell. I had no idea what the hell was going on. He hated me. I hated him – even though right now I was too numb to feel anything at all. I couldn't muster up enough energy to hate him right now. Especially when he wasn't doing anything to make me hate him at this point in time.

I took a deep breath. Jace smelled like leather and apple shampoo. It was… nice.

"Jace?" I whispered, looking up at him.

He was breath taking. In the soft bedroom light, his hair looked like melting honey. His lips were parted slightly, his eyes were closed. His skin was the kind of gold colour that the sunset casts over the beach. He looked relaxed.

Then I noted the bags under his eyes, the way the worry lines on his forehead hadn't disappeared. I wasn't sure why I cared.

I didn't know what this was. He certainly wasn't comforting me. I wasn't sure that even he knew what he was doing right now – he sure as hell wasn't acting like it. But he wasn't being mean. For Jace, that was a pretty big deal.

"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked quietly, my eyes searching his face for any kind of indicator that he had heard me. If he had, he didn't say anything. Instead, he shifted and suddenly his arm was over my shoulders. I tensed. _What the hell?_

This was wrong. This was _Jace Herondale_. He didn't just comfort people when they were crying. Especially me.

But I was too exhausted to care. I'd gone through too much in the last two hours to care. His arm was warm against my shivering body. _He _was warm. Tentatively, I rested my head on his shoulder.

This was so fucking weird.

Where had the arrogant smirk gone? The cocky walk? The boy who flirted with every single girl – the boy who had been about to get laid in this very room? This was a side of Jace I had never seen before. Why didn't he show it more often? Maybe people wouldn't hate him so much if he wasn't such a dick all the time.

The bedroom was silent other than the sounds of our breathing and I decided I didn't care. Right now, he was calming me down. That was all that mattered.

I was starting to relax, my breathing starting to slow. Just as my eyes were starting to droop I heard him whisper.

"I don't like seeing you cry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the support on the last chapter, I wasn't expecting so much! I wasn't sure it was that good, I'm feeling pretty rusty, but you guys made me so happy! Also to the guest reviewer who was talking about declaring my uni major etc – I kind of already have, we do it a bit differently in the UK. I'm doing a joint chemistry and maths degree, writing is what I do when I'm not in the lab! **

**Also, would you guys be interested in a Jace POV at any point? I'm considering writing a chapter from his point of view instead of Clary's. Let me know!**

CLARY

Wearily, I open my eyes. It's dark and my head feels like it's being split in half. I sit up too quickly and groan as my vision blurs and my head swims. I stumble out of bed – when did I even get into bed? – and fumble for the light switch. After a few moments of patting the walls blindly, the room illuminates and my head gives an angry throb in response. I'm in my own room, but I don't remember coming home. How did I get home last night?

Did Jace Herondale take me home?

I dismiss the thought immediately. No – Jace may have been weirdly nice to me last night but taking me home is definitely not something he'd do. It was probably Magnus. Definitely Magnus.

Why do I get the feeling it wasn't?

I creep out of my room, still wearing the clothes from the party last night. It's still dark, and the clock in the living room reads 5:30am. Magnus is probably still asleep, but I want to make sure that he's here, that he's the one that took me home. Not Jace. Definitely not Jace.

_Why am I so hung up on this?_

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't notice that man sneaking out of Magnus' room until I walk right into him.

"Shit!" I shout, forgetting that it's early morning and the whole apartment block is probably still asleep. I'm going to have some angry neighbours for this. A deep voice echoes my curse.

Rubbing my head, I look up to see none other than Izzy and Jace's brother, Alec Lightwood. Though some light from the moon and streetlamps outside filters through the thin curtains, I can't see much. At least he's clothed, I think to myself. Magnus doesn't normally bring men over, but there have still been some awkward encounters over the years.

I don't know much about Alec Lightwood, but from what I've seen he's not the one night stand type. At least I didn't think so. I see him sometimes when I'm at Izzy's, but he rarely speaks to me – let alone acknowledges me at all – and when he does, it's with a stiff nod or a grunt.

Alec scratches his head awkwardly.

"I- I swear this isn't what it looks like," He stammers, but the way he avoids my eyes makes me feel like while it may not be exactly what it looks like, it wasn't entirely innocent either.

"Um…sure," I say, not exactly how to react. It would be a lot less awkward if I wasn't best friends with his sister. Thinking about Izzy makes my heart sink. I don't know if she knows yet what happened last night. I really hope that I can be the one to tell her, and not Simon. I need her to hear my side of the story so she doesn't think I stabbed her in the back and lead Simon on.

I push those thoughts to the back of my head. I will not let myself cry again.

We both stand there, in silence. I shift my feet, studying a small stain on the carpet. Neither of us know where to go from here – what are you meant to do in this kind of situation?

I clear my throat.

"Hey, so um… do you know how I got home last night?"

Alec looks like he would rather die than live through this awkward conversation any longer.

"Yeah, uh, Magnus and I brought you back here." Alec starts. A wave of relief washes over me – but also slight disappointment. "We found you asleep in someone's bedroom."

God, that's embarrassing. To anyone who didn't know me, I would have looked like I was passed out drunk. The thought angers me unnecessarily. I'm not a drinker and I never will be – not after _him_. I've seen the negative effects of alcohol on people since I was a baby and it still disgusts me to this day. Magnus likes his drink, which I thought at first would be something I struggled to accept, especially given we live together, but Magnus knows his limits. It's the people who don't know their limits that scare me. People like Valentine.

I shudder a little.

"Was Jace there when you found me?" The words are out my mouth before I realise just how that question looks. I don't know why I care enough to ask. Alec's brow furrows at the mention of his brother.

"No, he wasn't. Why?" He asks, confused. Then, as if realising something, his eyes widen slightly and he looks at me, uncomfortable. "Did… did something happen?"

It takes me a moment to understand just what he's saying.

"Nothing happened!" I blurt out, condemning myself instantly. _Nice one, Fray, way to make yourself look guilty. _Something might not have happened in the way Alec is thinking, but something strange definitely happened. I desperately need an excuse to get out of this situation. By the looks of it, Alec is searching for one too.

"I'm gonna go shower," I force out, and dart out of there as fast as I can, slamming my bedroom door behind me.

My back against my door, I slide down until I'm on the ground. That was one of the worst encounters I've had to deal with. I've probably scared Alec out of coming back over to Magnus, which is worse. Of all the guys Magnus could be with, I'm pretty sure Alec is the best of them. _Just great._

Groaning to myself, I reach over to try and grab my phone off my nightstand. It's a stretch, and I almost fall over in the process, but I manage to grab it. It flashes on.

_3 new messages, 2 missed calls._

I frown. When did I become so popular? I click onto the messages and sigh when I see who two of them are from.

_I'm at the party. Are you here? – Seb_

_Didn't see you tonight, was hoping I would. I'll see you in school. I miss you. – Seb._

I roll my eyes. Sebastian just doesn't know when to quit, and it's starting to make me uncomfortable. We dated for a few months last year, but he clearly hasn't taken the hint that it's over. I shudder slightly when I remember exactly why I broke up with him – the constant calling, texting, demanding to know where I am, who I'm with. I didn't realise how bad it got until he showed up at the apartment, hammering on the door, because I hadn't texted him back. Thankfully, Magnus was here at the time to get him to leave – I'd never seen Magnus so angry before. It seems Sebastian still hasn't changed much since then.

The other text is from a number I don't know.

_I want to see you. It's been too long. Call me back._

The two missed calls are from the name number. I have a sinking feeling in my gut and I don't know why. It's probably just a wrong number. Surely it's nothing to get worried about? Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I push myself up off the floor, yawning. I haven't got long before I need to start getting ready for school, and I still need to shower.

But something still nags at my brain about those missed calls.

…

The school bell rings just as I leave the changing rooms from gym class. Izzy wasn't in gym today, and I was so distracted I got hit with the ball right in the face, and there's a lovely bright red mark covering my entire left cheek. I sigh, tugging my hair out of my ponytail so it falls in front of my face and covers it slightly – I don't have the energy to put up with everyone asking me what happened.

Swinging my bag over one shoulder, I push my way through the crowded corridors to get to my English class. Everyone seems extra chatty today and I can't tell why – something which is pissing me off incredibly until I see the poster on the large double doors that separate the gym from the rest of the school – a dance.

I groan, but secretly my heart soars. I've always outwardly tried to seem like I don't like those kind of things – girly things, stereotypes, anything pink and pretty. I've seen the way girls like Izzy get treated differently for being feminine. People always assume there isn't more to Izzy than her beauty – that she's shallow, superficial, fake. It doesn't matter to her – she knows she's wicked smart and so do her teachers. I wish I had her confidence. To me, dressing the way I do means I avoid the kind of attention that she gets. But still, my heart clamours for the romance of a school dance: the kind with beautiful ball dresses, sharp suits, and being asked by someone you've long had your eye on. Magnus and Izzy have never had any kind of problem getting asked to dances, but Simon and I… we always showed up together. As friends. Part of me always envied Izzy… I guess it would be nice to get asked, just once. To know that someone noticed you.

But now I guess I have been noticed. By my best friend. And it's ruined everything.

I stop outside the door to my English class. I'm early, and the only other person waiting inside is Simon. My breath catches. I need to do something about this.

Caught in a sudden fit of determination to make this right, I march into the classroom and stop right in front of his desk. If he had planned on avoiding me, he's in for a tough time.

Simon slowly looks up at me, but when our eyes meet it's not my Simon I'm looking at. It's not my best friend, it's not the man who knows exactly what I need when the world gets to be too much. I can see it in his eyes: he's not _my _Simon anymore.

The eyes that meet mine are full of bitterness and cold.

"What do you want, Clary?"

Even the voice isn't Simon's. It's dead and flat and…_ hurt. _I can hear it – Simon and I always know what the other is thinking right? Joined at the hip, or so I thought. I can still hear the things he tries to hide from me – like how much he's hurting right now. But that doesn't change how cold his voice is.

"What do you mean, _what do I want_, Simon?" My voice comes out higher than I wanted. Some students start filtering into the room. "We need to talk."

He looks me dead in the eye and says,

"There's nothing to talk about."

The look on his face, the ice in his eyes – all of it unlocks a room full of hurt and anger that I've had bottled up since last night. I grab his arm and haul him away from his desk and out of the room, ignoring the strange looks and the laughs from some of my classmates.

I don't let go of him arm or let up the pace as I march us down to a quiet corridor, just outside the language department. I whip round and face him.

"_There's nothing to talk about?" _ I hiss. "How about how you kissed me without my permission? Why the hell wouldn't you ask?"

Simon's face contorts in anger. He's about to retort, but I cut him off.

"Were you ever really my friend? _Huh¸ _Simon?" I take a step closer. "Or did you just want to get in my pants?"

I'm seething at this point, and I'm not sure where all the rage has come from. Yesterday, I was in tears, sobbing for my best friend who might never have wanted to be just my best friend. I thought I had hurt Simon, that it was all my fault – that I had lead him on, that he had every right to be mad at me. But after a chance to recover from the shock, and after a night of tossing and turning, I know it's not just me.

Simon should have known better than to just kiss me. You don't just kiss people without asking – especially your best friend. Simon might very well be hurt that I don't feel the same way he does, but he has no right to take it out on me. To treat me like this is my fault.

Simon straightens up, taller. He doesn't look like the awkward, bumbling Simon I love anymore.

"How would you feel if you got rejected by someone you'd been in love with for years?" Simon growls. "You've been leading me on all these years – and when I finally get the nerve to kiss you, you get mad? What the hell?!"

I slap him.

I don't know what made me do it. I've never done something like that before. But as soon as I do it, all the energy I had, all the rage, it dissipates.

Simon looks as shocked as I feel.

"I have never once lead you on," I say quietly. "You never had the right to kiss me. Just because I'm your best friend doesn't mean you're entitled to me in that way."

Simon doesn't meet my eyes, and suddenly I find that I don't care. I turn away and leave him, wide eyed, against a bunch of lockers.

I somehow find my way to one of the girls bathrooms before the tears start flooding out.

_God, stupid tears. Do I ever stop crying?_

I sniffle, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. I rest my hands on either side of one of the sinks, and look up at myself in the mirror.

My eyes are red, no surprise, and a trail of black eye makeup is making its way down my face. My cheek is still bright red, and it looks like my cheekbone might be starting to bruise. My red hair, as usual, is unruly. I don't know why my parents ever tried to tame it when I was little. It would always spring right back to its favoured, messy state.

I turn on the cold tap and cup my hands, filling them with water which I splash onto my face. Simon may be my best friend, but he doesn't deserve any more tears from me. I won't cry over him anymore. Not until he realises that I don't owe him romantic love.

It's barely ten minutes into third period, but I know there's no way I'm going back to class right now. Not int this state – not when I have so many emotions running rampant and when I'm feeling so numb all at the same time. _Can't you just make up your mind? _

I breathe out, pulling myself up tall. Or taller, I suppose, given I stand at a meagre 5 foot 2. I don't even know what Simon ever saw in me – I don't have any of the curves that Izzy has, I practically have the body of a child.

I shove my insecurities to back of my head. Now, of all times, it's not a good idea to fall into that dark pit. I don't think I could pull myself out again without my best friend. _I will be strong._

I don't know where I'm going to go for the next hour, but I'm certainly not staying in this bathroom. I put on my strong face, fling open the door and walk out.

And straight into Jace Herondale's stupid, muscled chest.

Great. Exactly what I need right now.

"Watch where you're going there, Peaches," He growls. His voice is different – darker than his usual, annoying teasing.

I stumble, and I'm about to fall right onto my butt when he catches me. His hand wraps right around my upper arm. I try not to think about how warm his hand is, or how it sends a spark right through me that sets my veins on fire.

He lets go, and I almost whine at the loss of contact. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

But clearly Jace isn't experiencing the same thing.

"What the hell did you do to my sister?" He demands. His usually golden eyes are dark. I gulp. I have no desire to explain my current friendship drama to Jace bloody Herondale. But it doesn't look like he's about to let up.

"I have a feeling it's something to do with why you were crying at that party last night, so you'd better start talking, Fray."

I've never seen this side of Jace before – this fiercely protective man, threatening anyone who dares hurt his sister. But somehow, I always knew it would exist. I've seen the way Jace looks at every boy who flirts with Izzy – but he's never interfered, not until now.

It takes every ounce of courage I have to start talking. Of course Izzy found out before I could tell her. Of course this is why she wasn't in gym today. I was foolish to think otherwise.

"Simon kissed me," I mumble, hoping he hears me because there is no way I'm repeating it. Part of me – the part that isn't tied up in knots from what happened with Simon – is burning up inside, embarrassed beyond belief that I'm talking to Jace Herondale about my love life, or lack thereof, I suppose.

Jace goes still.

"Simon… he's the one Izzy likes, right?" His voice is low. I don't meet his eyes.

_How did he know?_

Either Izzy told him or he's incredibly perceptive. I don't know much about Jace, but I'd be willing to bet on the latter. I've always suspected that he's smart, really smart, but just hides it. I just can't figure out why.

I nod, a small, almost imperceptible movement. But I know he sees it.

Jace runs a hand through his hair.

"Christ, Fray," He mutters.

_I will be strong._

I draw myself up and look him in the eye.

"I didn't ask for it."

His gaze matches the intensity of my own.

"I don't doubt that."

And with that – those four words – a feeling of relief washes over me, so immense the ground seems to swim below my feet. He believes me. He knows what happened, and he believes me. He doesn't ask if I lead Simon on, he doesn't ask if I gave some indication that I wanted to be kissed. Just my word, and that's enough.

He clears his throat.

"I think... I think Izzy probably knows that too. Deep down."

I smile. A small, easily broken smile, but a smile nonetheless. There's some hope left.

"What did you do?" He asks carefully. He's treading carefully – he probably thinks that I'm going to burst out into tears or start screaming after last night. I wouldn't blame him if he ran away right now.

"I slapped him – just now. I slapped him."

Jace looks stunned for a second, and then suddenly he's laughing, a deep rumbling sound that makes my toes curl, and then I'm laughing too, and everything else fades to the back of my mind. It feels good to laugh – to laugh at the absurdity of me hitting someone, especially my best friend, at the absurdity of this whole situation. I smile at Jace, and I suddenly wonder why I've hated him so much all these years. Was there ever even a reason? Did I just need someone to take out that rage on?

Jace's laughter fades, and when my eyes meet his I'm struck suddenly by how close we're standing. All the laughter is suddenly knocked out of me.

He's beautiful, I've always known it. But staring at him now, it catches me off guard. I don't ever want to take my eyes off him.

He doesn't look away from me as he raises one hand to brush my hair out of my face. The gesture feels foreign, especially coming from him, and I don't know why I don't stop it. I _should _stop it.

But I don't want to.

Jace stiffens, his eyes glued to my cheek.

I'm about to ask him what's wrong when I remember – the ball, my face. The bright red mark that's starting to go purple in spots.

"What happened," He demands, and the laughing boy is suddenly gone. His voice is cold, flat.

Despite his tone, despite the way he looks somewhat murderous right now, I slowly break into a grin, then grin even harder when I see his bewilderment.

"A ball. Gym class," I laugh lightly. His eyes soften.

I'm acutely aware of the fact that his hand is still in place, resting against the side of my head, almost cradling. I stop myself from leaning into it.

"You must be awful at gym, Fray," He murmurs. My heartbeat picks up. What am I doing here? My mind is racing. I should not be standing in an empty hallway, in the middle of third period, against a wall, entirely wrapped up and absorbed with Jace Herondale. But somehow I can't bring myself to leave.

He looks like he's about to say something, but then the bell rings and the moment is broken.

The wooziness in my head shatters and clarity floods back into my brain. I blink, but in that moment the Jace I was talking to is already gone and I'm back facing arrogant, cocky Jace. Just like that.

Before I can begin to say something – though what I would say, I'm unsure – he's turning to leave, sauntering off to his next class without so much as a goodbye.

"Jace!" I call after him. There's nothing more I want to say to him, nothing I can think of. But I do it anyway.

He turns, the usual smug look on his face.

"Thanks for last night."

A smirk draws across his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Peaches."


End file.
